


Where the Past Meets Today

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Friendship, Harry Potter Next Generation, Post War, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-05
Updated: 2009-02-05
Packaged: 2018-10-27 10:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10807671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: The year is2017andHogwartswaits for anew generationof wizards. Some things never change and some things are bound to. And change isn’t always as predictable as one might think...





	Where the Past Meets Today

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

 

****

**Platform**

Draco Malfoy spotted the Potters as they, momentarily followed by the Weasleys, passed through the barrier gateway at Kings Cross and onto platform 9 ¾. The scarlet locomotive was already waiting, spreading a light mist of steam around the gathering families, hugging and kissing their children goodbye. Both the Potters and the Weasleys seemed to have children that were off to start their first year at Hogwarts. If such was the case, they would soon become classmates with his son. Scorpius had inherited his father’s pale skin and silver-white hair. His eyes, however, bore witness that his mother was a Greengrass. Dark brown, in some lights almost black, they were the clear opposite from his father’s cold, light grey eyes. They had a strange way of maintaining warmth, as though a copper red fire burned from the inside. Still, the resemblance between father and son was striking; no one had to ask to know that Scorpius was a Malfoy. 

It had been years since Draco last saw the Potters, since before the birth of his son. Draco’s eyes fell upon the youngest Potter boy; it was like seeing Harry for the first time all over again, only without glasses this time. Draco’s mother often commented on how much Scorpius resembled him when he was the same age, but this... the boy was a complete mirror image of his father. Dark untidy hair that stood up in the back of his head, thin body – he even had Potter’s green eyes. The boy, now talking eagerly with his father, showed every sign of being a First Year. There was a wild stare in his eyes, and his attention could not be held by any single thing. Looking excited and anxious at the same time, he gazed at everything around him.

Draco’s eyes lingered on Potter and his son. How long _had_ it been? He recalled a vague memory of the family visiting Diagon Alley around Christmas. When turning the corner outside Flourish and Blots, Draco had suddenly found himself face to face with Harry. The family appeared to be looking at the decorated windows. On his one arm, Harry was holding a toddler, the other arm wrapped around Ginny’s waist, his hand gently stroking her growing stomach. Draco and Asteria had walked past them without stopping and only exchanged a brief word of polite recognition. 

As he had then, Draco now found his own emotions disturbingly unsettled. How was he supposed to feel? Happy? Greeting the Potters as dearly missed comrades from passed times? Impossible. There was too much history, too much things said and done, indelible and unforgivable.  Was he to feel embarrassed? But by what? Joining the wrong cause? Getting caught doing it? Sometimes Draco had wondered if his father hadn’t preferred dying at the hand of his master rather than becoming an accomplice in his wife’s betrayal of the Dark Lord - _even if it did save the life of his only son_ , he thought bitterly. Though his father publicly maintained a face of remorse, he still confessed himself to the twisted ideology of the Dark Lord. Even though Draco thought it to be more out of pride these days than actual loyalty to those Dark beliefs. 

So what was he suppose to feel then? Gratitude? Well, yes, the fact that Draco did owe Potter his life made gratefulness nothing but obligated.  It was expected of him. By showing gratitude, he might gain some respect from the wizarding community.  And, by Merlin, he had to cling to what little station and honour his family had left. The Malfoy name held little sway in the social and political world of wizarding Britain, and while his father might be able to live in constant denial to the contrary, Draco could not. _Unfortunately,_ he added in his mind. 

Of course, if it were for his father to decide, neither embarrassment nor gratitude would be optional. Father wouldn’t approve for a son of his to feel any of those emotions, Draco corrected himself. Embarrassment was really what his father would call “unsuitable” for a wizard family of their “proud heritage”. Even if that heritage was looked upon with anything but pride these days. His father had always proclaimed that the Malfoys’ pure legacy was certain to keep them above such a petty emotion as embarrassment or shame. But that was before Voldemort’s downfall. Everything had changed after the second war. Some changes even his father had to acknowledge. 

Still, when Harry caught his eye, Draco couldn’t bring himself to respond in any other way but in a short and tense nod, as though the very movement of tilting his chin was painful. It was then that he felt shame. Had he really become his father? Growing up, he would never have asked himself that question. Not like this anyway. To become a perfect reflection of his father, that had been his very ambition and final aim as a child. Maybe that was one of the key changes. Draco felt furious with himself. Furious of the way he had reacted to Potter. And at the same time, furious about letting down the father and his beliefs, knowing that he would despise Draco for it. Determined not to let this brief lack of character leave a mark on his face _– Not here, not in front of my family, not in front of my son! –_ hegrinned and turned his eyes to the boy wrapped in his mother’s arms.  

 

* * *

 

Scorpius felt his mother’s embrace tighten but he did nothing to stop her.  After all, he would be gone for a long time. A strange, sucking feeling grew in his stomach. He tried to ignore it, convinced that he didn’t want to explore the reason for it any further. He let her hold him for a little while longer, inhaling the familiar sent of her. 

“You take care now, my dear,” she whispered in his ear.  “Promise you will. And don’t believe everything people might tell you.  There are two sides to every Galleon. Okay?”

He nodded into her shoulder.

“I’ll remember, Mother.”

“There, there, Asteria,” Scorpius' father said.  ”Don’t strangle the boy, he will return you know.” His father smiled, but it seemed forced.

“I know, I know,” she said, giving her son a small tug before letting go of him. 

Not certain how to behave, Scorpius turned to his father. They both paused for a moment. He tried to read his father’s face for some inkling of how he ought to behave himself. What would a good son do in this situation? But Scorpius’ eyes only met carved stone, a smirk etched in it that gave nothing away. _Better safe than sorry,_ he finally decided and held out his hand. His father seemed pleased by his choice, he shook his hand and gave Scorpius a more convincing smile this time.  

“Good luck, son. Take care and behave well. Think before you speak—and to whom you speak. You now have the opportunity to bind the right people to you, connections that may be valuable in the future. ”

“Yes, Father. I won’t disappoint you.”

His father patted him on the shoulder.

“We are _already_ proud of you,” his mother added and Scorpius noticed she gave Father a stern look from the corner of her eyes whilst she said it. 

“Yes, I know, Mum…” Scorpius muttered silently. “Well, goodbye, Mother, Father.”

His mother gave him a last hard hug, her voice trembling a bit. 

“Goodbye, dear.  We – we love you.”

As Scorpius lifted his trunk and boarded the train, he stole a final look at the platform. His mother and father stood where he’d left them, as motionless as two statues. He could barely make out their faces from all the steam, but they stood alone, apart from the other parents flocking alongside the train trying to get a last glimpse of their children. He couldn’t help but wonder if his first year at Hogwarts was going to be just like that – alone, cut off from the rest of the students. What kind of welcome would he get at school? Would there even be one? His stomach twisted, falling into that weird sucking hole again. He guessed that for now he’d just have to improvise and let the board set itself. If he was to believe Father – and why wouldn’t he? – his opportunity to prove himself would come along.

 


End file.
